A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing (15 page)

He wasn’t used to a woman giving him orders, and he would have preferred that she tell him to carry her off to bed, rather than start a fire and roast more marshmallows. But he silently did what she’d requested.

His thoughts slipped to what Bjornolf had said concerning how she’d saved their lives, and despite the hour, Finn couldn’t wait for morning to have this discussion. If they’d gone to bed, that would have been another story. He started the fire, then glanced over at Meara as she settled on the bench, quietly observing the ocean, her expression one of peace, tendrils of dark curls tickling her cheeks in the cool breeze.

She looked at home on the beach with the pine trees behind her rising on the hillside and stretching ponderously over the house. When he’d seen her in the redwoods of California, he’d thought she was at home there as well. He realized then that she was the kind of woman who suited the great outdoors, no matter what the environment. Well, maybe not the desert. He couldn’t see her living there.

Unless it was a desert island. And he was shipwrecked on it with her. But there wouldn’t be any s’mores to share with her then. Oysters could work wonders, though.

He sighed. His need to know what had happened during their last mission nagged at him, and he wanted to ask her what she’d done to save Hunter and the rest of the men. Yet for an instant, he didn’t want to spoil the moment. He had to ask her, though.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Meara, Bjornolf said you saved our lives on our last mission.”

Her eyes widened, and then she smiled a little. “How’d he know I made my special homemade soup for the rest of the guys after Hunter and the others were injured? Did you know that family recipe had been passed down for generations? It works, though. It truly helps to encourage healing.”

Soup?

Finn reached for the bag of marshmallows and skewered a couple. “I thought he meant something more… directly related to the mission.”

“Like what?” She snorted. “I didn’t even know where you were going to be.” She frowned. “What did Bjornolf say I did?”

“He said you saved us. That we would have all been dead if it hadn’t been for you.”

Meara looked back out to sea. “He’s making it up.”

Finn thought he saw a niggling worry line etched across her forehead. Maybe from trying to recall something that might have happened. Had she done something inadvertently and didn’t even realize what she’d done?

“Maybe it seemed insignificant to you at the time, but it was really important. Can you remember anything to do with that last mission?” Finn asked.

“Yeah. I fought with Hunter. I was going out with this guy…”

Finn couldn’t help that he was scowling. What did he care about some guy she was dating?

She frantically waved at the marshmallows. “Hey! You’re burning them!”

“Hell.” He shook them off the stick into the sand, the marshmallows covered in flames and the white quickly turning black. Concentrating on the task at hand, he poked two fresh marshmallows on the stick.

“Hunter didn’t care for the guy,” Meara continued.

Finn didn’t want to hear this. He was certain he wouldn’t have cared for the guy either, no matter who he was. But what did that have to do with their mission? Since she seemed focused on that instead of with his real question, he might as well let her get it out of her system first. “Was he wolf or human?”

“Wolf.”

Finn tried to appear neutral, despite not liking that she was seeing wolves, assuming she wouldn’t want to talk about it with him if he seemed to feel the same way as Hunter.

She concentrated on the marshmallows. “Don’t burn them this time.”

“Why didn’t Hunter like this guy?” Hunter’s instincts had always been good about keeping Meara from making a mistake so Finn trusted Hunter’s judgment over hers. He wondered if she actively sought problem males just to provoke Hunter.

“Here, let me have the marshmallows. Your mind is elsewhere.” She pulled off the melted ones and let him have them. “Next two are mine.” She poked the marshmallows on the stick, her fingers inadvertently sliding down the length, and he thought of how she had wanted to put her hand on him earlier that evening and stroke him like he’d stroked her.

He closed his eyes and shook the notion loose, then looked back at her and prompted, “He didn’t like this guy you wanted to date. Why?”

“He never liked any of the guys I wanted to see, Finn.
Period.
None of them were good enough for me, so he said.”

“He was right, too, wasn’t he?”

She grunted and sandwiched the chocolate and the gooey marshmallow between the graham crackers. “He wouldn’t like you seeing me in that way either, you know.”

Finn snorted. “We’re not talking about me. Why did Hunter not like this guy in particular?”

“It was right when you were going on your last mission. Hunter was adamant that I not see the man while he was away. He was afraid something might happen between us, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it before it was too late. I wasn’t planning on mating the guy, just dating him.

“It wouldn’t have mattered who he was, at least I don’t believe so. All he had to be was an unmated alpha male and that was it. Hunter…” She sucked the marshmallow and chocolate off her fingers, one after another. “…had an uncanny ability to know when someone wasn’t right for me. Or at least he thought he had. I really think he was wrong about this guy. That’s all.”

Finn stared at the way she sucked her fingers, wanting to be the one licking them, and then at her lips, thinking of how he’d kissed her in the sand and wanting to repeat the performance.

But damn it, he was not a moonstruck teen. And he had to get his raging testosterone under control. “What happened between you and the guy?”

“Nothing. He left. I figured that Hunter must have had words with him, and I never heard from him again.”

All right. Finn could see Hunter doing that. And anyone who wasn’t alpha enough would have backed down, tucked tail, and left. “What happened between you and Bjornolf at Anna’s hotel?”

“What do you mean?”

Her question struck Finn as odd. Why not say nothing had happened?
If
nothing had occurred between them.

She was watching Finn with an alpha’s challenging gaze, but he swore her armor had slipped when he heard the nearly imperceptible hitch in her voice and observed the way she stood a little straighter, stiffening her back, the way her eyes were wide with feigned innocence, as if she was hiding a guilty conscience.

Hell.
“He was seated in a booth in the lounge, drinking a beer and waiting for you. Why?”

Meara looked genuinely surprised. “He said he didn’t drink.”

Taken aback by her response, Finn paused. “He said he lied,” he growled. And that was
not
what Finn was concerned about.

Her lips were parted in a way that offered an invitation to a kiss—at least to his way of thinking. Then she smiled a little. Finn frowned at her.

She shrugged. “I thought he’d left through the lounge and was headed outside to his vehicle. I was going to look through a window and would have gotten his license-plate number and then shared it with you. I never expected him to be waiting for me in the lounge. He had to have known you and Anna would come soon for me. I don’t know what kind of a game he was playing.”

“He stuck his hand in your pocket and felt you up.” He couldn’t help still being irritated by Bjornolf’s earlier action.

“He put a bug in there,” she countered, her face reddening slightly.

“You felt his hand on your ass, Meara.” He couldn’t help the frustration he felt at Bjornolf’s luring her toward the lounge and her plan to follow him blindly into the dark recesses.

Would she have had a drink with Bjornolf, if Finn hadn’t arrived as soon as he did? A couple of drinks? Would she have left with him if he had promised to keep her safe?

“Well?” Finn challenged, wanting to know what the hell she’d been thinking. She was just like Hunter had said she was—impulsive and putting herself in danger when it wasn’t warranted.

“He kissed me, too, damn it! So what?” Meara froze after the words spilled from her lips.

Finn stared at Meara in disbelief, and he instantly wanted to pummel Bjornolf.

“Bjornolf kissing me didn’t mean anything,” Meara said to Finn, her face red, as she slumped on the bench, grabbed a stick, and began poking it in the sand. “Hell, Finn. I wasn’t going to tell you that part.”

“That he kissed you? Why the hell not?” He couldn’t help how angry he felt, partly because she hadn’t planned to tell him what had happened between her and Bjornolf. She’d only blurted the truth because Finn had ticked her off. Was that what Anna had known and had wanted to warn him about?

He still couldn’t believe the bastard had actually kissed Meara. When? No wonder the man had been so damned smug when Finn had seen him in the lounge. First, Bjornolf had felt her up and she didn’t do anything to indicate she didn’t like it, and then she’d let him kiss her?

“I figured you might want to kill him,” she said, her voice soft with regret.

“And you wanted to keep him alive.”

“No!” Her face blossomed with color anew. “I mean, of course I didn’t want you to kill him. I didn’t kiss him back. I was shocked. That’s all.”

“Shocked.” When did a woman like Meara not react to such an intrusion of her space? If she secretly wanted it!
Damn
it.
“When in the hell did he kiss you?”

She poked the stick deeper into the sand. “In the lobby.”

“
When?
” he asked more gruffly.

“When you were rescuing Anna!”

He unclenched his fists. He should have left her here at the safe house—safe from the likes of someone like Bjornolf. “And then you went to meet him in the lounge. Why? To share a drink? Another kiss? Kiss him back this time?”

“You’re an ass.”

That was the Meara he knew. He smiled a little at that, but then his smile faded. Yeah, he was an ass. If Meara was intrigued with Bjornolf, who was he to say the man wouldn’t be right for her? She was
Hunter’s
responsibility, and
he
could have dealt with her falling for a deep-cover operative.

Finn settled on the bench next to her and took a deep breath. They didn’t speak for what seemed like forever. She kept poking the damn stick into the sand, and he kept stewing over Bjornolf’s intentions toward her. Finally he said, “I’m not a romantic, Meara. I don’t believe in giving flowers or chocolate or mushy cards or any of that sentimental stuff.”

She pointed to the chocolate bars and softly said, “Might not be a date, but I haven’t had a nicer outing with a man than I’ve had with you.”

Surprised she’d feel that way, he stared at her for a moment for any indication that she was teasing him, but she seemed sincere.

“I’m talking candy hearts filled with chocolates.” He was talking real dating. And he couldn’t do it. He just wasn’t made that way. It all seemed fake, part of some ritual he didn’t believe in. And he wasn’t about to fall into that trap.

***

At first, Meara didn’t know where this conversation was going. She assumed he was trying to let her down gently—that he wasn’t the mating type. But she hadn’t meant to say a thing about Bjornolf kissing her until Finn had riled her. She realized afterward what the matter was. He was jealous!

And that had both surprised and tickled her. She already knew he wasn’t the mating type. But she also wanted Finn to know that was okay. That she enjoyed being with him, no matter what the circumstances. And that no matter what macho game Bjornolf was playing with Finn, the operative didn’t mean anything to her.

She tried to keep the conversation less serious, more lighthearted. She’d been truly scared that Finn or Anna might have been injured or worse. And her intention had only been to learn more about Bjornolf so she could help Finn discover who he was, not to see more of the man.

She needed quiet time to enjoy the beauty of the beach and ocean, and to unwind before she collapsed in bed so that she wouldn’t keep replaying what might have happened if Bjornolf had been one of the bad guys.

What she didn’t need was any more discussion about Bjornolf and that stolen kiss.

“Hmm, never thought you’d be the type who would be into flowers and the like. So what
are
you into?” She envisioned a woman reloading a musket for her man during the American Revolution. Someone who was stout of heart, a real outdoorswoman not bothered by sharing a snake bake on the beach. Someone probably like Anna. “A woman who reloads your weapon without being told to?” Meara asked, when he didn’t respond right away.

Finn didn’t say anything for a moment, as if he was considering that scenario. Then his mouth curved up, and the skin beneath his eyes crinkled. “My
weapon
is
always
loaded.”

She hesitated to respond, then getting his double entendre, she felt herself blush and she frowned. “Geez, Finn. Do you ever think of anything but that? Here I’m envisioning a woman reloading her husband’s musket during the American Revolution, and you’re… well, you’re incorrigible.”

He laughed, and she was glad to see him lighten up. He didn’t have to be jealous of Bjornolf, but she figured telling him that wouldn’t have any impact on him. He had to see for himself.

“It’s important that I’m always armed. Comes with the job,” Finn said, trying to put on a serious countenance but failing.

She snorted. “Your dates must think you’re loads of fun.”

He stared out at the ocean and appeared serious for the moment, contemplative even. “I’m not the settling-down type.” He motioned to the water. “This is the only life for me. It’s in the genes. My ancestor was a descendant of Leif Erikson, if Hunter didn’t mention it.”

“The Viking explorer?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Finn glanced at her. “Hunter told us you were strong-willed, and he worried about you. Especially when we were away on missions. He didn’t trust the pack to watch over you like he could.”

“I suppose he said a lot of things about me,” she remarked as she looked out to sea, not liking that Hunter had talked about her to his men behind her back.

“He warned us to stay away from you.”

She looked back at Finn. “What?” She couldn’t believe Hunter would do that. Then again, she could. Not that she had planned on chasing after any of them.

Finn gave her a decidedly boyish grin that was more charming than anything. “The guys were curious about you, since you’re unmated and Hunter’s twin sister, and knowing him the way we do.”

She just stared at Finn in incredulity. Was that why Hunter had never left her alone with any of the guys during the brief times she’d seen them over the years? Because one of them might have shown some interest in her? Was it for her protection or theirs?

Here she’d thought he was worried she’d learn too much about their secret missions!

But she remembered how the men would mill around in the background as Hunter gave her last-minute instructions that she would listen to only if she agreed with them. The men would watch her, not Hunter, as if waiting to see her reaction. She had always figured they were amused to see him giving his sister orders and not just them. Now she wondered if there was more to it. Maybe they wondered if she’d be as much trouble as Hunter no doubt had told them she would be if they thought of her as a prospective mate.

She growled. Hunter had no right to interfere in her life to that degree.

Then she reconsidered Finn’s words:
The
guys
were
curious
about
you, since you’re unmated and Hunter’s twin sister.

The guys. Not just one or two of them. But the guys. And that meant this guy, too—Finn.

She felt her face flush, and she quickly looked back at the ocean. So what did that mean? The guys had been too afraid to check her out? To go behind Hunter’s back? She’d thought they were all too alpha and would have stood up to him if the circumstances warranted. Then again, he’d been their team leader, and they did respect him.

She took a deep breath.
SEALs.
The fact that they were friends of Hunters and had been his teammates in the Navy had made them off limits, despite the fact she had been intrigued by them. Who wouldn’t have been? Rugged, healthy, muscular, fascinating. And brainy. All were skilled in the operations they had to conduct. All were dedicated to the mission and to each other. Loyalty like that was hard to find. But still, she wouldn’t have shown any real interest and caused trouble between Hunter and his men.

She and Finn sat in silence for a long time, listening to the waves crashing on the beach in a lulling, hypnotic way and the sound of crabs scurrying about the sand some distance off. She wasn’t used to being at a loss for words, but for once, she really didn’t know what to say. And for once, she felt truly uncomfortable being with Finn.

Up until now, she had brushed off any sexual interest he had exhibited toward her as being a matter of wolfish prowess. And since she’d wanted the intimacy as much as he had, she’d assumed he’d needed to satisfy some feral desire, nothing more. That didn’t necessarily mean he wanted her. It was just a way of showing how hot he thought he was while taking care of baser instincts. And being a SEAL on top of that? Alpha to the max.

But now? He’d revealed that he truly
had
been interested in her all those years, and that made her feel—
differently.

That’s when the oddest feeling washed over her. Hunter had been saying for years how she was too choosey. That she’d never find the right mate. And that’s when she realized it. Deep down, she was afraid of men. Well, not any man, but specifically alpha males. She couldn’t take up with a beta because she couldn’t see having a mate who wasn’t up to the challenge. But she was afraid an alpha would quash her own natural alpha tendencies. She wanted—and feared—an alpha male.

She let out her breath with a heavy sigh and noticed Finn turn his head in her direction.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his tone gentle, not pushy.

She shook her head. No way would she tell him or anyone else how she felt about alpha males. She’d successfully hidden her feelings all these years—from herself, even, it seemed. No sense in letting anyone else know how she truly felt. Awkwardly uncomfortable, she started to poke the stick into the sand some more, digging until she had a deep, narrow hole. Doing something physical helped her control her unwanted nervousness.

“If Hunter didn’t want me around you guys, why did he leave me in your protective custody now?” she asked, figuring her brother hadn’t any choice this time.

“He knows any one of us would protect you better than someone who wasn’t one of our team. I just happened to be the only one available for the job.”

Just happened to be? What about Paul? He could have come for her. Unless he had been busy. Maybe he’d been somewhere more inaccessible so he couldn’t get there in time to warn Hunter.

She wanted to know what the guys had really said about her, if they’d bothered to speak about her at all. They’d have to have done it in private, she imagined, when Hunter hadn’t been around. He could be annoyingly protective, even when she didn’t need or certainly want his protection. He’d broken up more potential dates than she could remember.

She poked her stick even deeper, annoyed at Hunter for messing up what might have been a possible mating in several instances if she’d only been able to go her own course without his interference. Now she had Finn watching her every move and no chance to return to her cabin to manage the rental units until this was over. And then? Hunter would be back.

She glanced over at Finn, expecting him to be watching the ocean again as if he were his ancestor Leif Erikson, looking at his real home in the deep blue sea and wanting to sail away to new lands, when instead he was stuck protecting Meara on the beach. He was actually watching her poke the stick into the hole she had made in the sand. He caught her eye, raised his brows, and gave her the most wickedly evil grin. He clasped his hand over hers and pulled the stick out of the hole.

He held her hand firmly and leaning closer to her, his whole posture stating that he was in charge. She frowned at him, not knowing what his problem was.

“Hunter didn’t say
how
much trouble you could be,” he said, and winked. “We ought to go inside now.”

Her lips parted in protest as she narrowed her eyes at him. But he just gave her a small crocodile smile back and raised his brows a hair.

Heat filled her whole being when he didn’t release her hand. She glanced down at his fingers wrapped around hers, the stick poking at the tip of the hole in the sand.

“I’ll follow you up in a minute,” he said quietly.

She noticed then that his voice was downright husky with sexual overtones. Her gaze quickly shifted to his jeans. Ohmigod, he was fully aroused. As if he knew what she’d realized, he grinned at her. “Follow you up in a minute?” he asked this time.

Hell, he probably couldn’t walk with a boner like that.

Then she wondered what had brought that on? His hand squeezed hers, bringing her attention to the stick in her hand and the hole she’d made in the sand. Her mouth dropped open for a second. Her poking the stick in the hole had given him ideas?

Men were absolutely incorrigible. At least
this
SEAL was.

***

Meara would be the death of him, Finn thought glumly as he waited for her to enter the house while he attempted to reign in his raging erection. He’d tried to let her down gently, to explain that he couldn’t be the one for her. Yet if he hadn’t been a thrill seeker, Meara would have been just the wolf he wouldn’t have minded settling down with.

He shook his head at himself and glanced at the dark hillside, wondering if Bjornolf had been watching them. He was sure the lone wolf had been, which was the only reason Finn hadn’t given into his more wolfish desires and kissed Meara again on the beach. He couldn’t do that when his mission was protecting her, not ravishing her.

After a few minutes, he put out the fire and headed to the stairs, unable to set aside the thought of Bjornolf kissing her in the lobby. The overwhelming question was: why had he done it?